


falling in my motion

by neocxxlture



Series: end to start [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, because i had to, inspired by take off teasers!, late night rides, racer yangyang, that's literally all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: Kun turns the music down, just so he can hear himself when he speaks without having to shout, “You know, Yang,“ he looks at Yangyang, “We could get arrested for this.“





	falling in my motion

**Author's Note:**

> [prompt n.11](https://twitter.com/paperplane_127/status/1115887335470768129) for eda <3 
> 
> [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/2dmPVqFpmhNuggEB3niC9S) is what they listen to in the car - listen for full immersion
> 
> and stream take off when it drops

The world goes by in a blur. Kun looks out through the window, but the side of the road is nothing but a smear of colour, trees and grass and sky all melding together into one. His body is pushed back against the sturdy seat by the inertia, insistent. There is a funny feeling in his stomach, his head feels fuzzy, his body vibrates with the bass music that’s cracked up way too loud.

He breathes evenly, slowly. He can keep watching through the windshield only for a couple minutes more before he starts feeling nauseous with it, so he turns his head to look at Yangyang instead. Yangyang doesn’t seem to be suffering the conditions that Kun is currently facing. He sits comfortably, almost lazily. His head is kind of slanted, leaned the tiniest bit to the side, exposing the column of his throat to Kun’s unrestricted view. He is painted in the colour of the headlights, the few lampposts they fly by, or the traffic lights that they stop at, at times.

There is no one else on the road. It is just the two of them, in a world that is asleep. Kun doesn’t know what time it is, and he doesn’t really care to find out. It feels like time couldn’t matter less, not when he’s here, not when his heart throbs so hard in his chest he thinks it’s going to splinter into pieces any moment, not when the adrenaline makes his blood itch in his veins.

They come to a slow stop at a signaling light. They don’t need to, but by now Kun has come to know that Yangyang doesn’t only enjoy the speed of the race but the buildup to it, the moments between 0 and 100 and beyond. It’s all part of the game, the thrill of toying the line. Kun likes that feeling just as much; it is similar to the way a plane speeds up before it lifts off. It’s something they’re both addicted to.

The light goes from red to orange to green and then to red again, and still they don’t move. It feels peaceful, even if Kun’s stomach is still rolling. Yangyang doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, leaned back leisurely, eyes half-closed, fingers of his left hand tapping the steering wheel in time with the beats of the song currently playing. Kun has yet to look away from him. There is something about this sight, about this version of Yangyang sitting before him now that just draws him in without his intention. On any given day, Kun would describe Yangyang as just a cute boy, just a simple guy. But behind the wheel of his car, Yangyang transforms somehow, like he settles into his skin, like it is his most natural state of being.

A car passes by. They both turn to look, but it’s impossible to see who’s behind the wheel. The driver of the other car toots the horn at them, just once, before speeding away.

Kun turns the music down, just so he can hear himself when he speaks without having to shout, “You know, Yang,“ he looks at Yangyang, “We could get arrested for this.“

And Yangyang smirks. Yangyang doesn’t usually appear smug, because even if he is confident, he isn’t so vain; but this is a self-satisfied expression if Kun ever saw one. It’s attractive. It’s electrifying and addicting. “Only if they catch me.“

“Then you better make sure they don’t,“ Kun replies, and Yangyang laughs, the nicest sound Kun ever heard.

The light is red, but Yangyang puts his foot to the pedal and off they go again. Just before Yangyang really leans into the metal, before the car picks up its usual speed, before Kun’s head is thrown against the seat with the force of it, Yangyang turns to him. They lock gazes for a moment that feels both eternal and not long enough. Then it registers in Kun’s brain that Yangyang should really be looking at the road ahead instead of at him, but before he can say anything, Yangyang turns back to the road of his own accord.

It’s in these moments that Kun reaches for his hand, just puts it atop his palm that he has on the gearshift or twists his fingers into the sleeve of Yangyang’s jacket. Understanding passes between them silently, in the form of the road in front of them, the wail of the engine as the car keeps going forward, quicker and quicker, mirroring Kun’s pulse.

When they finally come to a stop again, it’s at the side of the road. Kun is about to ask why, as this isn’t Yangyang’s usual resting spot and they usually drive around for longer than this – but before he gets the chance, Yangyang is leaning into his space space and grabbing him by the back of the neck with both hands like he cannot help or stop himself, and then he brings Kun closer to kiss him.

Ah, so that’s why, Kun thinks as he relaxes into the kiss, as he presses closer. He feels the seatbelt cut into the side of his neck, but he ignores it in favour of kissing into Yangyang’s mouth, carding his finger’s through Yangyang’s hair, tugging at the short strands at his nape.

This is a new addition to their regular late-night drives, but Kun isn’t complaining. It’s still something fresh, something they haven’t really talked about, but he thinks they both understand, not in words but in feelings and actions – in Yangyang’s mouth at the corner of Kun’s mouth, his jaw, below his ear, in his hands under the hem of Kun’s shirt, curious and exploring.

Yangyang leans back, not too far but only just enough so he can catch his breath. Kun smiles to himself – he’s so pretty like this, under the cover of night, features softened by the shadows. He is lovely, Kun thinks.

Yangyang turns the music off. As quiet replaces the heavy melodies, Kun lets out a sigh, but it is not an exhale of discontent; it is the opposite. He likes this, all of it – the rides, the excitement they instill in him, the atmosphere of the dark world around them. But most of all, he just thinks he likes Yangyang.

“Are you tired?“ Yangyang asks, voice lowered now that he doesn’t need to compete with the music to be heard. “Or can we ride around a bit more?“

Kun is tired, but he’s willing to stay up, just to spend more time with him. It’s worth it, he thinks. “We can drive,“ he answers, hooking a thumb just underneath Yangyang’s jaw. “But maybe not as fast?“

Yangyang smiles, “Where would be the fun in that?“

Despite his words, Yangyang drives them around much slower than before, and surprising to no one, they stop at the side of the road to kiss again more than once.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture)|[twitter](https://twitter.com/paperplane_127)


End file.
